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Aramon Raythe, or Aram, as everyone liked to call him, had no interest in becoming a bard’s apprentice, for that would involve interacting with strangers, an exercise he found particularly terrifying.
Aramon Raythe, or Aram, as everyone liked to call him, had no interest in becoming a bard’s apprentice, for that would involve interacting with strangers, an exercise he found particularly terrifying.
Perhaps two wrongs can’t make a right, but it’s possible two failures can make a Champion. Will you try with me?”
❤️
Humiliation filled him, and he wanted to weep, but weeping would be even more humiliating, so he didn’t.
😢
“What you take in with you,”
Alright, Yoda
“Will it taste better over time?” he asked. “No,” Esmir said. “What will change is your ability to cope with the experience.”
👌🏻
“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered, his lips trembling. “No one does, in times such as these. Just do what you can.”
Good line
time as the creature extended its mighty wings. Then, with one great leap, it scooped up the body of the dead man and, tucking him close against its breast, leaped for the cave mouth and plunged into the yawning crevasse.
How dare this make me cry
“Boys included.”
Well this scene was terrifying
Any woman who could wrest a dragon from its rider had no need of protection from men.
Oh such a good line
baking him a fresh barley loaf hollowed out and filled with mutton stew.
I love books with food descriptions
Slowly, his body peeled from the wall and slid to the ground, leaving a streak of blood behind. Aram saw the spikes his back had been driven into.
Oof
I'm selfish and want more art in the book
“Siroth has become quite fond of you,” Esmir confirmed.
Why is this making me cry???
“Every time I think I know you, I find out I don’t,” he admitted. “And that’s what makes you beautiful. Your freckles just show on the outside what you’re like on the inside. That’s why I like them,” he finished lamely, glancing down.
Aw
tossing them on the ground as the dying Elesium looked on.
Shes really scary
time to grieve.
This book continues to hurt me
the power of Auld magic, but her mere presence seemed to lend courage and resolve to the men and women who fought around her. Black ichor coated her face like tar, mixing with blood from a wound in her scalp. Her eyes blazed with battle-rage. No foe could stand before her.
Fierce lady
“No. I mean I already love you.”
❤️
The language of Elara was not written in letters but rather as a system of knots tied in cord or, sometimes, graven in stone.”
👀
Ansul Stroud.
Well that didnt last long
Vandra.
😢
Blood and bruises covered her face, which was a cruel bastardization of its former beauty.
Ugh. My heart
Until they didn’t.
RIP queen
